


That Kind of Close

by Cordelia_Sun



Series: Personal Indulgences [1]
Category: Farscape
Genre: Developing Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Season/Series 02, Shippy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-05 06:54:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3110237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cordelia_Sun/pseuds/Cordelia_Sun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After returning to Moya, and losing Tayln to Crais, Aeryn decides that she doesn't want to spend the night alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Kind of Close

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of a bunch headcannony fics speculating on the off-screen ~~frelling~~ relationship development going on during Season 2. I like to think its not just an excuse for gratuitous smut, but I'm probably kidding myself on that score. 
> 
> Nothing in this universe is mine, of course, I've simply broken into the yard to play in the sandbox. As this fic dovetails into an episode there are a few lines of direct dialogue near the beginning; they're not mine either.

Aeryn stepped into the hushed chamber of Pilot’s den; ducking slightly as she passed through the doorway. It was dark and calming and there was no sound beyond Moya's rhythmic background hum, which was louder in here than elsewhere on the ship. The sound reached deep down into the core of her body; eminently soothing. She crossed the walkway to where Pilot worked with a look of deep concentration on his face. Aeryn had grown to understand Pilot's expressions a little in the time she had been aboard Moya and she thought he looked worried.

“Officer Sun,” Pilot said, looking up from his console, arms still working as he fixed his gaze upon her, “it is good to see you.”

“Thank you, Pilot,” she replied as she approached the central platform, “I just came to see how you were. You and Moya.”

“We are as well as can be expected...under the circumstances,” said Pilot, his busy arms paused for a moment as he seemed lost in another thought, “Moya feels bad that she couldn’t convince Talyn to stay. This separation is...very difficult for her. She feels as if she has failed.”

Aeryn shook her head in disagreement and was about to speak when she noticed, for the first time, the dark figure crouched on the floor next to Pilot’s console. Crichton sat with his head bowed and resting on his arms, which he draped over his knees.

“Hey,” she said softly, turning the idiom he had taught her back on him.

“Hey,” he replied raising his head to look up at her. She could just make out the blue of his eyes in the semi-darkness. He looked as exhausted as she felt.

“Commander Crichton also came to ask how we were doing,” explained Pilot, “Moya and I are grateful for both of your concern.”

“Don’t mention it, Pilot,” he said and regarded Aeryn with a wry smile, “I sat down for a minute—sorry microt—and don’t seem to have the energy to get back up.” He leaned back and extended a hand up, reaching for her, “Come. Sit with me.”

Aeryn shuffled her feet, uncomfortable, “I really don’t want to intrude.”

“It is no intrusion, Officer Sun,” said Pilot, “In fact I appreciate the company.”

Crichton reached forward until his fingertips touched hers. Aeryn tentatively took his hand and allowed him to pull her to the floor. There was an awkward shuffle to find a position. Aeryn first tried to seat herself at Crichton's side, but he deftly maneuvered her until she found herself tucked between his legs leaning against his chest. This closeness bothered her. She was intently aware of his body and his smell; too intimate and disconcerting. It was also warm and comfortable and she found that she didn’t want to leave; that bothered her even more.

His words flashed through her mind, _“how many times have we been close?”_

 _“Friend close,”_ she told herself, “ _this is fine. It’s fine.”_

She laid her head against his chest and began to feel the tension drain from her. The coiled tight feeling she had carried for so long was slowly replaced by a deep dull ache in her muscles that was oddly satisfying. She suspected she was going to hurt in the morning.

“I failed,” she said, the words escaped her lips before she could examine them.

“You did everything you could.”

“In other words I failed.” countered Aeryn. Peacekeepers did not reward second place. There was only success or failure.

“Officer Sun.” Pilots voice called down to her in a hesitant tone, “Talyn told Moya he was choosing Crais of his own volition.”

Aeryn bowed her head; she’d definitely failed. She felt John take a lock of her hair in his fingers as he spoke to Pilot, but she wasn’t listening. A memory of Talyn’s neural transponder, snaking towards Crais, replayed in her head like a dream. A very bad dream.

“Talyn will be alright, won't he?” she asked John.

“Weeell...He's young. And he's going to make mistakes. But he'll learn. And if Crais ever mistreats him, he'll bounce him.” he said and Aeryn hoped he was right.

“Maybe Crais won't mistreat him.” she said and John responded with a doubtful grunt, “He could've killed me, you know. He could have killed all of us and he didn't.”

“Yeah. Maybe just needed to save the energy for starburst.” John said and Aeryn thought he may be right, but she didn’t want him to be.

“Or maybe he's changed.” she countered. John made another dismissive grunt.

“Well, you do believe people can change, don't you John?” she asked, “Well?”

“Well,” he said, slowly, gaze fixed on the lock of hair in his hands, “you have.”

 _“Yes,”_ she thought and hummed to him to continue.

“I have.” he went on, and they shared a sad smile.

“But Crais...?” his voice trailed off and the smile faded; replaced by darker inner thoughts. Aeryn sighed, she didn’t know the answer either. She could hope that it was possible. For Talyn’s sake. For her sake. Even for Crais’ sake.

Aeryn laid her head back against Crichton’s chest and closed her eyes; she could hear the steady thump of his heartbeat. It was reassuring like the hum of the ship.

She allowed herself to relax; feeling her body become heavy and loose. Crichton rested his head against hers and buried his face in her hair. She felt his breathing slow, matching hers, and they both drifted off to sleep.

***

Aeryn awoke with a start; startled to find herself still sat on the floor of Pilot’s den. Crichton’s heavy arms cradled her as he slept wrapped around her. She didn’t know how long she had been asleep, but if the protests from her muscles meant anything it had been a long time. She reached up and shook Crichton gently awake.

“John,” she whispered, “John, wake up.”

No response.

“Crichton!” she jabbed a finger in his ribs.

He woke with a panicked shout. His arms flailed violently, legs kicking out, and he knocked her away hard. Aeryn found herself on her knees before him, wrists gripped tight in her hands, as he fought her.

“John! It’s okay,” she called to him in a firm voice, “it's alright it’s me.”

He calmed as his ice blue eyes focused on her face; panic and confusion replaced by recognition and relief. Then he flushed and pulled his hands out of her grip and covered his face.

“Sorry,” he mumbled still panting.

“It's fine. Are you alright?” Aeryn asked.

He nodded and waved a dismissive hand as his breathing returned to normal.

“My legs are killing me,” he groaned and lifted himself to his knees; leaning heavily on the floor for support. He flashed her a grin, “and I can't feel my butt.”

“Me neither.” laughed Aeryn as she reached down to help him up, “Pilot, how long have we been here?”

“Almost three arns, Officer Sun.” replied Pilot.

“Damn, haven’t gotten that much sleep in a while,” Crichton said with a sheepish grin plastered across his face, “we should do this more often.”

Aeryn frowned at him and he shrugged and tried to rub the smile from his lips.

“Pilot,” she said with clipped politeness, “thank you for letting us stay here. We hope we weren’t an inconvenience.”

“Not at all, Officer Sun,” replied Pilot.

“Come on,” Aeryn said and turned to leave the den, pushing Crichton ahead of her as he rubbed his eyes and yawned, “we'd better get out of here. You need to get some proper rest.”

They walked slowly along Moya’s corridors in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, until they reached Crichton's quarters. He lounged against the doorway and pinned her with a bloodshot stare. As Aeryn stared back into his eyes, full of pain and tension, she wondered what he saw in hers. Probably the much the same.

“I'm glad you're back,” he said, rubbing a thumb gently across his lower lip in a desperately familiar gesture.

“I am too,” she told him truthfully, “despite everything.”

He nodded and went to turn into his quarters with a vague wave goodnight. Aeryn found, all off a sudden, that she didn't want to be alone. She didn’t want to leave again.

“John,” she said on impulse, “I can stay…if you want.”

“I thought you were staying?” he asked, brows drawn together in confusion.

“I mean now. Here,” she snapped and then continued, hesitant, “If it helps you sleep, that is.”

Realisation dawned on his face and for once, and to her great relief, he didn't try to make a joke or an incomprehensible comment.

“I'd like that,” he said and he held out his hand to her. She took it and allowed him to pull her into the room, “if you're sure?”

“Yes.” she stood close to him, hands flat on his chest, and took a deep breath, “Only, this isn't...anything. It's just company.”

He nodded and brushed his check against hers.

“And I'd prefer it,” she whispered as she brushed her lips against his neck, “if we kept it to ourselves.”

“Sure,” he whispered back and his lips found hers.

They kissed, long and deep, his mouth hot and slightly sour. Aeryn felt her heart thump as she pressed against his warm body. His hands traced up her arms, her shoulders, her neck, before his fingers entwined in her hair; everywhere he touched Aeryn’s skin prickled. She snaked her arms around his waist and began to pull his shirt up with shaking hands. Aeryn was surprised at how nervous she felt. She told herself it had been a very long time since she’d recreated with anyone. Only once in nearly a cycle. It was bound to feel a little strange at first.

“Wait,” John said breathlessly breaking away from the kiss.

“What? What's wrong?” Aeryn said as bubble of panic swelled in her chest.

“I'm sorry,” he said, “but I really have to go to the bathroom.”

The bubble popped and a bark of laughter escaped Aeryn’s lips. It broke the tension and John smiled down at her.

“I'm not joking!” he said.

“Go on then!” she pushed him away, taking a swat as his backside as he left. She crossed the room, waved her hand over the door control and swung the privacy curtain across its open grill. She sat down on the bed to unfasten her boots and kicked them off across the floor. When she looked up she saw John standing there, in the corner of the room, watching her. He ran his fingers through his cropped hair with a lopsided grin on his face. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who was nervous.

“I'd better go too,” she said and got up; squeezing past him into the bathing area.

Aeryn relieved herself and—after a flicker of paranoia—pilfered a dentik and quickly freshened her breath. When she returned she found him leaning against the little table in the middle of the room with his arms folded trying, and failing, to look casual. He'd shed his boots too. She gave him a little smile as she stepped up to him.

He pulled her against him and stroked the side of her face; his hand warm and soft against her skin. She ran her fingers firmly across the muscles at the back of his neck and pulled him down until their lips met. She opened her mouth and allowed his tongue stroke against hers; his mouth was now fresh and sweet and she felt better for not being the only paranoid one.

His scent washed over her; a soft musk undercut with unperfumed soap and supple leather that reached right down into her neglected libido and gave it a good hard squeeze. He ran a hand down her body and tucked under her shirt to stroke the soft sensitive skin of her waist. It tickled, but she resolutely did _not_ squirm. She felt him tug at the fastenings of her pants and leaned back a little to give him room. For a few moments they were occupied with the awkward task of removing clothing, all the while sharing coy smiles and eye contact.

When they were finally free Aeryn took John’s hand and pulled him towards the bed stopping as her calves bumped against its edge. He wasn’t looking into her eyes anymore; instead his gaze lingered over her body. She let him look and took the opportunity to return the favour. They’d seen each other naked before—of course—but during that one frantic encounter, on the edge of desperation, they’d barely stopped to savour the moment let alone the view.

She liked what she saw; broad shoulders, chest covered in fine soft hair and flowing with muscle defined by monens of intense, often brutal, training. There was a faded yellow bruise on his thigh; the result of kick he had failed to block. She smiled, that had been the first kick he'd let through in a while. He had other, angrier, bruises; strap marks across his wrists and shins. Her breath caught in the back of her throat at the sight of them.

“Hey,” he said in a voice so soft she barely heard, but it was enough to call her back to the moment.

He sat her down on the edge of the bed and knelt between her spread knees; trailing kisses from her mouth to the swell of her breast. She propped herself up as she leaned back, head tipped and eyes closed, as John’s hands and lips explored her body. He dropped his head to her breast drawing the nipple into his mouth and gently nipping with his teeth, sending little shocky waves through Aeryn's body.

His fingers touched everywhere, or so it seemed, her arms, her belly, her neck; they traced lightly between her shoulder blades and an unexpected shudder vibrated through her and ended between her legs. It was as if every nerve in her body was wired in to her groin and by now she was aching for contact. Finally, he slipped his hands between her thighs and she bit her lip in anticipation but he stopped, fingertips barely a whisper from her labia, and did not move.

Aeryn opened her eyes and looked at him frowning. What was he playing at? Didn't he know what she wanted? She hitched her hips forward, trying to maneuver him closer, but he just grinned and pulled away. He was frelling teasing her! She let out an involuntary growl which only seemed to amuse him more.

She leaned forward and whispered into his ear, “don’t push your luck.”

In response John twisted a hand into her hair, pushed her back on to the bed and clambered up between her legs. He ran his hand up the back of her leg pushing it high and opening her wide. She felt his fingers explore her flesh and they penetrated her at the same time as he pressed his lips against hers. The kiss muffled her moan, which was more relief than anything else. He broke away and smiled down at her before licking his lips and leaning down to nuzzle her neck.

Aeryn squirmed as the sensations from John's lips reverberated through her body and mixed with the building pressure between her legs. She closed her eyes and twisted her fists into the bed's thin blanket, luxuriating in the feeling of his fingers sliding in and out, becoming increasingly slick with her juices.

He pressed the pad of his thumb against her clit inciting a convulsive shiver and the beginnings of a cresting wave. As it built, when Aeryn breaths were coming quick and fast, John pulled away and took his hand from between her legs. Aeryn moaned in protest, but John just smiled and shook his head. He reached up, touched his slick fingers to her lips, and watched as she took them in her mouth and sucked the juices from them. It was an unusual and surprising gesture, but as she the drew the sweet and slightly metallic taste from his fingers she found it electrifying.

She was done waiting.

She ran a hand down his body, raking her nails gently across his skin, and reached between her legs wrapping her hand around his cock. His eyelids flickered at her touch. He was thick and hard and felt hot in her hand. She gave his cock a few long strokes before guiding it inside her. She hummed softly at the initial penetration; savouring the sensation of being filled. He drew a sharp intake of breath and began to stroke into her; long, deep and gratifyingly hard thrusts.

Aeryn briefly reached down and allowed her fingertips to brush against his cock, slick with her juices, each time he pulled out of her. He leaned a back to allow her more room and his gaze dropped, transfixed at the sight of her fingers, sliding against him. She moved her hand and began massage her clit matching the rhythm to John’s movements.

It felt so good; she’d almost forgotten just how incredible good sex felt. How much more substantial it was when compared to the meagre diet self-satisfaction she had existed on for so long. Right in this moment she couldn’t remember why she had resisted this.

John continued his unrelenting, rhythmic thrusts, each stroke building the wave; a deep aching sensation inside her aided amply by her fingers. She exhaled each breath with a desperate gasp. His eyes were still lowered and she in turn watched him as he bit his bottom lip gently. A simple thing, but wildly erotic; it sent a little shudder of excitement through her and the wave began to crest. He must have noticed as, in that moment, he fixed his eyes on her face and watched her as she began to lose control.

Her back arched and with her free hand she clutched his shoulder; her nails dug into the skin leaving long red welts that would somehow have to be explained later. She cried out as the wave broke. Crashing over her. A tide of exhilaration and ecstasy overwhelmed her; followed by warm ripples that ran through every muscle in her body and left her light-headed. As the wave receded, as she tumbled from its peak, John joined with his own cry; a hard animalistic sound accompanied by a few last urgent thrusts. He fell on to her panting; matching her own ragged breath.

They lay together for a while, a mess of tangled limbs and sweat, until Aeryn gave John a playful dig in the ribs and he clambered off her and lay down at her side. He ran a hand through his hair and stared at the ceiling.

"Well, I think Ill sleep tonight.” he said, breaking the silence with a breathy laugh.

“I'm glad to be of service.” she said, stretching out her body, easing the aches in her legs and arms and enjoying the sleepy post coital haze. It was very hot in this room.

“All we need now is beer and a pizza.”

“Well, I can't help with either of those, but we could go get something to eat.” she said and rubbed a hand over her belly, “I am actually very hungry.”

“I don't wanna go out,” he said, “I got a stash of snacks and some of that weird fruit juice Rygel picked up at the last commerce planet.”

“That'll do,” she said as she sat up, “I'll go clean up, you get the food.”

“Yes ma'am” he said giving her a lazy salute.

Aeryn padded into the wash room and turned on the shower. She checked the temperature, turned it down, stepped in and quickly washed herself, removing all the stickiness and sweat from her body. She felt tired, but relaxed and content; just the effect recreation should have. When she stepped out she grabbed a large towel and wrapped it around her tightly, without drying off, hoping her wet skin would cool her when she returned to Crichton's too warm room.

Crichton sat at the little table in the middle of his room. He'd dressed in a fresh t-shirt and shorts and his long legs stretched out before him creating a rather pleasing view. He had laid out a selection of snacks in a small box; crunchy things that kept for ages. Aeryn wondered if she was the only person on board Moya who did not keep a secret stash of food in her quarters. On a command carrier that was against the rules. There was also a flask of bitter fruit juice, which Rygel had brought from their last shopping trip and never seemed to go off. Crichton had announced it similar to something called grapefruit juice, complained about the taste, and then proceeded to drink more than his fair share.

She joined him at the table and poured them both a drink. He took a mouthful and pulled a face.

“Why do you drink it if you don't like it?” she asked.

“I do like it,” he said, “well not really, it's horrible; but I like that it tastes like something I recognise. Not much out here does.”

“Well, we've been mostly restricted to food cubes and what little we can get on the commerce planets we dare land on. There's a lot out there that you haven't tried.”

“Do you have a favourite food? Something you miss?” he asked.

“Hmm, I suppose Hepation minced stew,” said Aeryn.

"Stew?” said Crichton.

“Uh huh. I know it's nothing special but I loved it as a child; the creche cook made it best. It's warm and filling and healthful.”

“Yeah. We call that comfort food,” said Crichton, “simple food that makes you feel at home.”

“Yes, that's it,” she said with a shrug, “I've only had it a couple of times since I got here.”

Chiana had cooked them a feast just before they left on their last mission. How the girl had known it was her favourite Aeryn couldn’t imagine, she could only have mentioned it in passing, but the gesture had affected her profoundly. Not that she would ever tell Chiana that.

“When we can we should get the ingredients and you can make it.” John said, interrupting her train of thought.

“I don't know how,” Aeryn said with a shake of her head.

Crichton raised a brow of inquiry.

“I've never had to make it,” she explained, “I was a commando, not a cook.”

“Well, then we'll find a recipe and learn now.”

Aeryn smiled at him and took a piece of grolak, which she nibbled on and looked at the other items on the table. A collection of random bits and pieces that wouldn't look out-of-place in the trash compactors in the maintenance bay. She picked up a clear plastic cylinder about the size of her thumb.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Oh,” said Crichton, his face becoming animated, “this is my new project.”

“Project?” she asked, looking at the bits with a puzzled frown.

“I'm making a chess set. I think I have enough already to make about half the pieces. Just need the materials for the rest and a board,” he said, “the DRDs are helping out looking for supplies.”

“A chess set?” she asked.

“It's a game. A strategy game like tadek.”

“Oh, from Earth?” she said.

“Of course. I used to play with my Dad, until I got good enough to beat him more often than not. He did not like that!”

“It’s a child's game?”

“No, it's a very sophisticated game requiring great skill, planning and strategy.” he said, “when I'm done I'll teach you to play and you can see for yourself.”

“The day I can't beat you at a strategy game is the day I give up for good.”

“You'll eat those words.” he grinned at her and she smiled back and shrugged.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, eating and drinking while Crichton rummaged in his box of pieces, fitting bits together experimentally. Aeryn smiled; he was quite good company when he wasn't talking. This all seemed oddly domestic but Aeryn felt comfortable and at ease. She’d lived in shared quarters most of her life and shared a bed often enough; when the mood took her. This didn’t feel the same, but it wasn’t completely different either.

“What now?” asked Crichton when the food and drink were gone.

“Sleep?” suggested Aeryn.

“You still wanna stay?” he asked, brow raised.

“If it’s OK?” she replied.

He nodded and cleared away his boxes and the trash from the table, “but it's not a thing, right?” he said quietly.

“Right.”

“OK.” he said after a long pause and he stood up, “I'm gonna go wash up. You...you make yourself at home I guess.”

Aeryn nodded and watched him go. She got up and padded over to where Crichton kept his clothing and rooted around in the messy pile. She dug out a grey t-shirt and pulled it on. It was big on her, loose and fell to the top of her thighs. She climbed onto the bed, pulled the covering from the floor and draped it over her. Crichton emerged from the bathroom and got in next to her. She lay on her side on the narrow bed and he tucked her into him, curling his body around hers, before waving a hand out to turn out the lights.

“Aeryn, “ he whispered into her ear.

“Hmm?”

“Thanks,” he said, “for everything.”

“It’s fine John,” she said, “go to sleep.”

She lay still for a while, listening to his breath until it slowed and when his arm became heavy across her and she knew he was asleep. She allowed her eyelids to droop and slowly drifted off.

***

Aeryn awoke sometime later, sleepy and hazy, stirred by a lack of warmth at her side. She turned to see Crichton returning from the bathroom—humans did seem to have to pee a lot—and he climbed back in to bed and pulled her in to him again. His lips found hers and his hands caressed her body. She allowed him to draw her in and her hands slipped down to his shorts and tugged them down.

They recreated again. Slow and quiet and sleepy; an act of fluid motion and soft hands exploring in the dark. John finished first, his cry muffled as his lips pressed against her neck, and he rolled off her breathlessly and wrapped his body around her.

Aeryn began to drowsily reach down between her legs, something she'd done many times before with other recreation partners, but John gently nudged her hand away. He pushed her thighs apart and he began to touch her tenderly. Aeryn squirmed, grinding against his hand, and she clung to him as his movements became firmer and quicker.

She focused her mind on the touch of his fingers and allowed her thoughts to bloom with sensual imagery; the firm hand that ran up her inner thigh, the fingers twisting into her hair and the long lashes framing penetrating blue eyes that watched her when she came.

The images became more explicit and less beautiful as intense pressure built between her legs, warmth and tension spreading throughout her body, until the light scrape of John’s teeth against her skin tipped her over the edge. She cried out at the release, shockingly loud, before wriggling his hand away from the now far too sensitive area. John pressed a light kiss to her lips and they lay together, languid and drowsy, his forehead touching hers. John's hand still lay between her thighs.

After a while he fell into a deep sleep and Aeryn watched him for a while. The tension had melted from his face for the first time since the nightmare of the last few weekens began. He looked peaceful for a change. She resisted the urge to trace her finger along the line of his jaw.

 _“This isn't a thing.”_ she told herself, _“Just recreation with a friend.”_

It was too hot in this room.

Aeryn eased herself carefully and soundlessly out of the bed. She collected her clothes from their various locations, pulled them on and picked up her boots. Aeryn dropped the grey t-shirt on the table before palming the door control and heading back to her own quarters. She was glad no-one saw her on the way. She briefly wondered why, if it was just recreation, she even cared if anyone knew.

 _“Moya,”_ she thought, _“is not a command carrier and the rules are different here.”_

Only Aeryn didn't know what the rules were anymore.


End file.
